


Charles Chickens

by Krash39



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, motw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:41:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24084514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krash39/pseuds/Krash39
Summary: Prompt sent to me by QueenVictoria88"OK two paragraphs. Can be anything from action. to comedy. Theme Supernatural. Sam and Dean see an online article about chickens killing their breeders in Iowa  (I changed the setting) Groups of violent chickens have been pecking their owners eyes out. Five farms so far. We're talking small farms, no meat factories. They arrive and they see-"
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	Charles Chickens

The sky hung low and grey over the vast Nebraska prairie, muting the landscape to it's own dull monochromes. Thunder echoed somewhere off near the horizon, rumbling along with the Impala's engine as it came to a stop at the bottom of a small access road. Its two occupants pushed open the squeaking, heavy doors and stepped onto the squelching mud. Dean closed the driver's side door with a metallic clunk as he turned, surveying the property. A modest two-story house, that had recently seen better years, but was far from derelict. It's light blue trim still holding a cheery invite, despite it's dark windows and the board now nailed across the front door, and the broken yellow crime scene tape wrapped around the handle of the screen door.   
"So this was the first vic?"  
He asked without looking towards his brother, starting towards the back of the house.   
"Dennis Cartner, 53, divorced, lived alone and has been a chicken farmer for at least 30 years according to county records." Sam recited following his brother from the passenger side of the car. The muddy gravel crunched under their boots as the driveway opened to a large cul de sac. On one end was a small barn, the other lead to a 1 story chicken coop that stretched at least 60 feet into a back field.   
"And they found him here?" Dean asked motioning generally to a large dark stain on the ground.   
"13 feet outside of his chicken coop, face down. According to the Sheriff's report he was crawling away from it when he expired."   
"Makes sense after a chicken pecks your eyes out I guess." Dean quipped reaching for the door of the coop. "You sure you wanna do that?" Sam asked leaning back from the entrance. "Scared mutant Big Bird is gonna come out swingin'?" Dean laughed as he pulled open the door. Sam covered his face as his brother hacked and gagged instantly. "I mean those things smell like crap." He didn't try and keep the amusement out of his voice. "You're telling me this is normal?" Dean blinked rapidly as his eyes teared. "I'll remember that next time I order a nine piece."

They made their way down a single, narrowish lane. Walled on either side by empty cages. The birds had been removed after the body had been discovered and all that was left were feathers and the Jackson Pollock array of bird droppings. After several minutes they came to end of the row.  
"Well, we know this wasn't just another case of ' _When Animals Attack_ ' look at this symbol." Dean motioned towards the back corner of the building. Sam clicked on a small flashlight illuminating the image scrawled into the wood in what looked like white spray paint.  
"Dean, I could be wrong, but I think that's Vodun." Dean snapped a picture with his phone.  
"No, you're right Sammy. Think someone with a grudge was controlling farmer Jones' flock?"  
"Maybe." Sam shrugged "We should go back to town, ask around, see what the locals say." They began heading back the way they'd come.  
Several feet before the door they slowed, hearing an mixture of scratching and fluttering coming from outside. Both pulled their guns as Dean ever so slightly opened the coop's door to peek outside.   
"Uh, Colonel Sanders, we have a problem."  
"The chickens?" Sam huffed out a breath.   
"It looks like a freakin' Hitchcock movie out there." Sam looked quickly around the room and stopped in the corner several feet to his left.  
"Dean?" He asked holding out a shovel as he reholstered his gun. His brother did the same.  
"You thinking what I'm thinking, Sammy?"  
" Batter up."  
Dean yanked the wooden door open to a flutter of wings and squawks, followed quickly by the rhythmic "FWUNK" as steel met feathers. They ran full tilt through the path they'd cleared and didn't stop until they were back in the car. Gunning the engine Dean backed hastily down the access road and back to the main highway. "Well I'll give it one thing," Sam finally broke their stunned silence. "Certainly was PECKuliar." Dean groaned and pushed the pedal harder to the floor. 


End file.
